


send me a sin (before it's too late)

by InfinitePeaches



Category: GOT7
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Clubbing, Developing Relationship, Drama, Drinking, Eventual Romance, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Modern Era, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Seven Deadly Sins, Slow Build, barely, best friends markjae, clueless youngjae, long fic, unnecessary swearing, yes by jinyoung
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinitePeaches/pseuds/InfinitePeaches
Summary: Youngjae knew things easily scared him. He also knew that fear made a person stronger. Except when you and your best friends life is on the line from people who want to send you directly to Hell. Literally.With vague memories and a mouth full of white lies, Mark and Youngjae realize the moment the symbol appeared, life as they knew it would be over.Or; the seven deadly sins escape Hell and the only way to return is by having all of them together. The problem is, only five out of the seven know they are sins themselves.





	1. Strange Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This idea just casually popped up one day when I realized that I really wanted to create a got7 fic. I am a sucker for anything seven deadly sins au related and I decided to create my own take on it. Updates hopefully will be every two weeks depending on whether or not I am busy. This will be a wild ride so prepare for literally anything! Hopefully, you enjoy and let us get started :>
> 
> This is slight moodboard that I created: https://pin.it/ajcwp3ivqzuenb

Youngjae froze.

The deafening sound of expensive plates falling to the ground could startle anyone from a mile away. 

Standing there, the piercing eyes of everyone around him were nothing compared to the harsh tug growing on his wrist. The man had a strong grip around it and Youngjae flinched at the harsh contact. He could not find a reasoning as to why this person initiated it but Youngjae never dared to ask. He simply bit his lip harshly, surprised he didn't draw blood.

The man in front of him flipped his arm around, impatiently scrutinizing Youngjae's bare forearm as if his life depended on it. Cursing, he furiously stood up, making the chair squeak beneath his feet. 

Youngjae observed the man leave in a rushed manner. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest when he heard a voice beside him say, "my apologies."

He held his breath for a brief moment as he watched the friend of the other man—in front of him—bowing down. 

When the second man gazed up at Youngjae, he almost took the apology but those dark eyes told him another story. They carried the same weight as furry. He watched the man pick up his belongings, disappearing seconds later to find the other.

The silence that fell through the whole restaurant could not wake Youngjae out of his reverie because all he could think about was what just happened.  
-  
Hectic, the only word Youngjae could use to describe the restaurant he worked at. Surprisingly, tonight carried a different setting. 

Youngjae’s feet ache from standing on them for too long.  
He sighs, knowing well that days like this only meant his shift would extend longer than any other day.

Youngjae places a hand on his earpiece when he hears that table seven is ready to order. Making his way over there, he notices two men in formal suits sitting at said table. It doesn't surprise him much because Youngjae is used to seeing people of high class frequent the restaurant. It always pangs Youngjae's heart of all the delicious food he's only told to serve but never allowed to eat. Every day becomes a challenge when there's a specialty on the menu he may never come to taste. No matter how much he’s convinced his manager, his actions always become futile. 

It doesn't bother him as much as it did before because Youngjae's actions weren't completely useless. The manager did end up giving each employee a huge meal to serve as thanks for their hard work. Sure this only happens every two weeks. 

As Youngjae approaches the table he flashes a quick smile, "Hello welcome to Citrus Jardin, my name is Youngjae and I'll be your server for this night," he looked at both men. "Can I start you off-"

One of the men quickly interrupts him.

"Steak. Marinated flank." 

Youngjae blinks. He quickly notes that with a nod. 

"I will have the lobster bisque." Turning to the other man, Youngjae bows stating that he'll return with their meals soon. 

Once Youngjae’s out of sight from them, he internally sighed. This isn't the first time people had been rude. Working as a server became a place where you were only given two choices. Either toughen up or leave. At least that was what his manager always reminded him of. The wealth of the people choosing to dine at such a place was no match for his tears.  
He quickly became accustomed to it. 

Even so, toughening up did not prepare him for the humiliation that occurred with people’s mal temperament. 

The way the evening had been set out, Youngjae had not expected it to turn out like this.

The whispering words of each guest were like bullets through Youngjae’s body. He picked up the remaining pieces of the shattered plate and quickly headed towards the kitchen doors. 

Everyone working rushed towards him with questions. Youngjae brushed off those pitiful stares being thrown his way. He’s tired of everyone always looking at him like a kicked puppy. Nothing serious happened, so they shouldn’t have to worry.  
-  
With the tense atmosphere roaming around, it quickly turned into a tranquil night.

No one bothered talking about the incident anymore. The manager stating it should be a thing of the past.

Grabbing his belongings, he realizes that all the other employees have left. 

Youngjae looks up at the clock, it’s hands being the only thing making noise.

12:05 a.m.

It looks like he'll be locking up again. 

Gathering all of his belongings, Youngjae heads out to the quiet of the night. Locking up, he makes a motion to open the back doors to fully secure that they are shut tight.

A swishing noise coming from behind makes Youngjae spin around on his feet. 

"Who's there-"

Youngjae comes face to face with nothing. Furrowing his eyebrows, he turns around and closes the door. It makes a click sound, signaling that it’s fully locked. 

He hears movement again but decides to ignore it this time. 

From the reflection of the glass door, he observes a dark shadow nearing behind him and it takes everything in Youngjae's power not to fully faint right then and there. His breath hitches, feeling a hand hover over his shoulder. Youngjae's scream becomes trapped in his throat.

He whips his head around, feeling his stomach drop when he comes inches away from a handsome face.

"What, what are you doing here?" Youngjae lets out a breath, placing a hand over his pounding heart.

"I just wanted to clear things up from earlier, about the scene my friend caused."

Youngjae hesitates to come up with a response. Was this man waiting for him to come out just to apologize again? Well, if that’s the case, he needs more than just a second scaring for the night. 

The man takes Youngjae's silence as a sign to continue.

"You see, we are looking for someone," he opens his jet black blazer and pulls out a card, "or you could say, people." 

He hands the small card over to Youngjae and hesitating, he finally takes it. 

Youngjae looks down at the card to read its contents.

Lim Jaebeom  
Assistant Manager at Wang Watches

Youngjae reads the name followed by a phone number. His eyes widen when he notices that the man standing in front of him is a worker for one of the most prestige jewelry stores.

When Youngjae looks up, he realizes that Jaebeom has disappeared. 

Blinking twice, Youngjae searches the area around. Strange, he raises an eyebrow looking down at the card once more.  
-  
Younjae’s swaying side to side. His weary limbs carrying him home. The blinding lights burn his eyes as he flickers them on. He throws all his belongings on the floor, giving his aching shoulders a rub. 

"Mark, you're still up?" Youngjae says as he makes his way towards his friend on the couch. He plops down next to him with a groan.

"Yeah, I just need to memorize these last two things and I'll call it a night." Mark picks up a bright highlighter, making tapping noises down on the notebook.

Mark has always been studious. Or appears to be anyway. Mark would only pretend to be studying until the deadline grew closer. If Youngjae was being honest, Mark was the biggest procrastinator he knew. But unlike others, he always managed to get the work done and still pass with a high score. If something didn’t interest Youngjae in the slightest, he would make no effort to continue. A big comparison to Mark, who would stay up all night studying forensic science even if the topic was dreadful. 

"How was work?" Mark finally looks at him.

Youngjae lifts himself off the couch and makes an exaggerated motion with his hands. "The worst! Did you know I got attacked by some crazy guy?" Youngjae runs a hand through his hair. Flashbacks of the previous event fresh in his mind. 

His best friend was always one to defend him whenever Youngjae needed it. But this time it was different. This time Mark was busy studying for his exam next week. Something about it being more important than college entrance exams. Truth being, Younjae could not put more on Mark’s plate.

Mark gave him a worried look and Youngjae should have kept this in until his friend had not been so busy. Coming to terms of no return, Mark would continue to pester him about what had happened. Youngjae already put it out so he decides to continue. 

"You see," Youngjae plopped back down on the couch. Explaining to Mark everything that happened, excluding the part where Jaebeom had given him his contact information. Youngjae found it strange that they were on the search for certain people. Maybe one of them looked exactly like Youngjae. If he would have mentioned that to Mark, he would no longer be able to leave the house. 

Mark lets out a sigh and shakes his head. "Some people need to work on their anger issues."

"Exactly! I was just trying to do my job," Youngjae folds his arms and pouts.

Mark looks over at him and smiles. He ruffles Youngjae's hair and begins to pick up his stuff. "Is that all?"

Youngjae kisses his teeth. No that wasn't all. But he just looks up at a waiting Mark and shakes his head. Mark nods and signals that he’s off to bed. 

"You should get your rest too." Mark peeks out from his bedroom door and Youngjae only replies with a soft "yeah."  
-  
Mark tries his best to keep his head straight, but it just threatens to fall on the table. Keeping his eyes open remains a struggle. He runs a hand through his hair and the idea of staying up late only haunts him more. He promised himself if he took the chance to play video games all night, that he will get himself down to study today.

Today was no different, sleep was winning this battle, but midterms were right around the corner and there was no time to waste.

Mark stands up, walking straight to the counter. Looking at the menu, he already knows an iced Americano would do the trick. 

When he reaches into the back of his pocket, he’s greeted with emptiness. Mark gives a quick smile to the person working the cashier and slaps his front pockets, hoping that some change would appear.

He sighs, no coffee today.

Right as he is about to turn around, a hand behind him reaches out, handing the cashier a gold card. 

"Don't worry, it's on me,” comes a sultry voice.

Mark's eyes widen, turning to face the generous person. His eyes fixate to a tall, lean man with a killer fashion sense. Mark has no idea what this guy is doing in this raggedy cafe when he could be out dining fine cuisine. Because that is exactly what he was. 

With words stuck in his throat, Mark barely comes to terms that he has been staring. The stranger hands him his coffee with a wink. Mark tries to fight the blush that creeps up his cheeks by looking down at his shoes. 

 

Without causing a more awkward situation, Mark accepts his coffee with a small "thanks". 

When Mark sits back down at his spot in the table, he does not expect the gorgeous man to follow suit. The other must-have sensed his uneasiness because he chuckles. Pulling out a chair, the stranger sits down casually.

"You didn't have to." Mark finally speaks.

"It’s no problem, really." He gives a cheeky smile with full lips. "Maybe you could repay me sometime?"

Mark's eyes bulge and rise up to make eye contact. 

"I'm kidding," the stranger gives a piercing look. "Seeing you this flustered is enough."

Mark looks back down to his drink. This guy truly would be the death of him.

Coming back to his senses, Mark straightens up.

"Sorry, I'm Mark."

"Hello Mark, my name's BamBam." BamBam eyes all the paperwork Mark has scattered in front of him. 

Mark takes a sip of his drink and half laughs.

"Studying for midterms truly is exhausting." Mark rolls his lips between his teeth. Truly BamBam thinks he’s unorganized as he is forgetful. Mentally slapping himself, he hearsBamBam laugh. 

"Good thing I came to your rescue, right?" He watches as BamBam leans in closer, causing Mark to lean back, coughing a bit. 

BamBam reaches over, also taking a sip from Mark's drink.

Mark watches him with his mouth agape. He isn’t one to openly express his true feelings and thoughts to just anyone he encountered. He needed to know the person first and after that, he would decide if they were trustworthy enough to know him on a personal level. It surprises him how expressive BamBam presents himself.

Mark notices a tattoo adorning BamBam's wrist. A circle with symbols aligned all around it. But one of the symbols is tattooed much larger than the others.

"Nice tattoo."

BamBam moves his silver watch and looks down at it. Setting the drink down, Mark observes as the BamBam’s thumb gently brushes it. 

"You like it?" BamBam presses down on it, almost clenching his hand. 

Something flashes in BamBam's eyes but it disappears quickly. They return to their usual cheeky nature. 

Mark couldn’t possibly continue studying now. Not when some hot guy sits right across from him. BamBam’s whole aura screams, “pay attention to me!” and Mark can only oblige. 

BamBam leans back in his chair, red streaks glistening through his black locks. 

"Since I paid for your drink," BamBam sips on the drink. It’s enticing to look away. "How about coming to this club my friend owns with me?"

Mark almost spat out his drink. Well, if he had one. 

“No offense but, why would you ask me of all people?” Did he gaze at BamBam indulgently for him to suggest such an offer? 

“Come on, my friend ditched me for someone else.” 

"Oh, I don't know. I really have to study for this class and-" he’s cut off when BamBam waves his words away. 

"Studying can wait, besides it will be fun!" he says in a cheery tone. 

Mark contemplates whether he should agree to meet up with the gorgeous guy he just met. Looking back, it has been a while since he went out. Maybe this is a wake-up call from the universe stating that it was time for a change. Besides, midterms aren’t until next week so he has plenty of time.

"Are you sure you want me going out with you?" Mark questions. He can’t tell whether anybody was hitting on him or not. Even if the person held up a sign that says,“Hey I am flirting with you”, Mark would still second guess himself. 

"Why not?" BamBam looks him up and down. Well if that was not a clear sign then Mark is just oblivious. 

BamBam pulls out his phone and hands it to Mark. He takes it, being very careful not to tint such an expensive-looking phone.

"I'll make sure to send you the directions and time."

Mark hands him his phone back, nodding in agreement. 

Watching BamBam rise up from his seat, he smiles a goodbye. 

"I'll be waiting for you." BamBam leaves with a wink and Mark would be lying if he didn't feel his heartbeat at that.  
_  
Arriving back to his house, Mark notices Youngjae dressing up for work. 

“I’m home.” 

Mark enters his room, going straight to his closet.

Youngjae peeks through Mark’s door, tilting his head at the mountain of clothing resting on the foot of the bed. Mark pulls out almost every outfit that he owns out of his closet, including his black shoes. 

Youngjae swings open the half-opened door. "Woah, where are you going?" 

Truth being is that ever since Mark started university, he never made time for himself. Always preferring the comfort of his home.

"Nowhere, just meeting up with a friend." Mark tries to sound as nonchalant as he can. Was the word friend even appropriate?

Youngjae's curiosity only provokes him more. 

"What?! What friend? Where to? How late?”

Mark watches as the mountain of clothes fall to the floor. He gives Youngjae a look of annoyance. 

Mark doesn’t know why Youngjae is acting surprised. It's not like he lives his life cooped up in his room. Sometimes that's exactly what he wants but tonight is different. He just met someone who took an interest in him and nothing is going to ruin it. 

But the look on Youngjae’s face has Mark spilling what happened earlier that day.

"Something about their friend owning the club?" Mark finally decides on wearing a dark airy shirt and his favorite black ripped pants. Now the problem results in how he should style his hair. 

"That's insane." Youngjae's eyes bulge out of their sockets. “So you’re really going?”

Mark shoves an article of clothing towards Youngjae’s face. “Kidding.”

Youngjae slips on his dress shoes for work, while Mark decides on finger-combing his fringe out of his face.

"Send me a text when you arrive home, ‘kay?" Mark gives Youngaje a worried glance.

Youngjae places a hand on Mark’s shoulder. "You don't have to worry, I'll be fine." His lips pulling to a half-smile.

"Give me a call if anything happens." Mark grabs his keys.

"Sure, sure. Now go, have all the fun in the world!" Youngjae pushes Mark out the door. "Don't forget to use a condom."

Mark playfully punches his shoulder at that, laughing himself.  
-  
The cool air surrounding him outside the club calls for a splendid night. Mark lances a text to BamBam when he arrives. 

The atmosphere reverting from inside thrills him. Mark can’t remember the last time he entered a club. Although nerves spike through his body, they vanish when he spots BamBam making his way outside. 

Mark concludes that no matter the occasion, BamBam always looked good. A little too good and it must have shown on his face because the moment BamBam catches him staring, he smirks.

"Trust me, I look better without these clothes on." 

“I think we should head in,” Mark nods towards the entrance of the club, avoiding the statement.

“Sure.”

BamBam motions Mark to follow suit, the music bouncing off every wall. They make their way through the sea of bodies. Every few steps, BamBam looks behind him to see if Mark is still tagging along.

When they make it out of the dancefloor, they both stop in front of a bar. 

A drink sits atop the table and BamBam reaches for it. He looks directly at Mark, pointing to the drink. Mark shakes his head and BamBam tuts, moving his pointer finger side to side.

BamBam whispers something incoherent to the bartender. The loud music making it difficult to understand. It’s too late for Mark to inform BamBam that he doesn’t drink because the bartender is already whipping up a drink. BamBam leans over to Mark and whispers in his ear that he'll like it, the action sending shivers down his spine. The bartender hands him the drink and Mark eyes it suspiciously. 

"Sazerac."

When Mark is about to take the first sip, a pair of strong arms wrap around his shoulders. Nearly dropping his drink, he whips his head around at what caused the unwanted contact, only to be met with a pair of dark eyes.

"You fished out a good one, Bam." The stranger purrs.

Mark sets his drink down on the counter and right as he is about to pull away from the stranger, the other pulls him back. 

"Hey now, keep your hands off him." BamBam takes another sip of his drink and motions for his friend to leave Mark alone. This elicits a whine from the other but does as he's told. Mark sighs in relief. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

Finally making his way around, Mark can fully see him. Tall, much taller than BamBam, ash black hair that falls over dark eyes. His outfit revealing a lean chest and black pants curve every inch of his long legs. 

Despite his tall nature, he wraps an arm around BamBam’s neck and sits on his lap.

“I know, but I changed my mind.”

“Just like you change your partners every night?” BamBam tries to push him off of his lap, but the other holds on tight.

Mark covers his mouth, suppressing a laugh.

BamBam glances over at him. 

"Mark, this is Yugyeom, my um, friend." BamBam introduces. 

Yugyeom nods towards Mark’s direction, flashing a cunning smile.

"You should drink up, don't want that pretty mouth of yours to be all dry." Yugyeom teases and almost like a command, Mark picks up his drink. 

A look of annoyance paints across BamBam’s face. 

Mark feels a pang embark at the back of his head when he takes another sip. He tries to dismiss it as quickly as possible, not wanting to be seen as a lightweight. 

Yugyeom softly laughs and wiggles out of BamBam’s lap.

He brushes a finger below Mark’s chin, lifting his head upwards. The closeness between them makes Mark forget the pounding in his head. 

"Why don't we ditch this club and go somewhere else." Yugyeom’s words pour out like red wine and Mark feels a tinge of arousal hit him.

BamBam slaps Yugyeom’s arm. The feeling of excitement leaves Mark’s body as Yugyeom pulls away.

"I'm just kidding Bammie," Yugyeom perches himself back on BamBam’s lap. "You know you're my favorite."

Mark watches both of them in amusement, taking another sip of his drink.  
-  
It’s Friday night and Youngjae’s feet ache. It’s his turn again to close the restaurant. Everyone has already left, leaving him behind. 

Shuffling around the place, he snatches his bag and heads towards the back door. He reminds himself that everything would be alright. 

Walking himself home, Youngjae senses something strange. The streets are empty. A city light flickers overhead. Crossing a street, the orange light gives out and Youngaje is washed in darkness.

Making his way through the vacant streets, Youngajae tries distracting himself by trying to name all the Seven Dwarfs.

He turns his head every few feet, making sure nothing behind him.

Paranoia, he told himself. Might destroy you.

Youngjae feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He hears the click-clack of shoes behind him, but when he spins around, there’s nothing.

He begins taking larger steps. His house being a few blocks away, he'll make it home safe. That's what he tells himself anyway.

 

Youngjae looks around, feeling a pang of worry sprout in his chest. His mind clouds as his breathing becomes heavy.

The click-clack of the shoes stops.

Youngjae's gut urges him to turn around to see what’s behind him. He internally counts down...

One

Two

Three!

Clutching his bag tighter, he spots a shadow run behind a building. 

“Hello?”

Youngjae blinks rapidly, forcing his vision to get accustomed to the dark. He stands there for a couple more seconds before his feet tug him to continue. 

Feeling his body tremble, Youngjae makes himself continue, but when he turns around, he comes face to face with the crimson eyes.

His breath catches in his throat and dread fills his body. Suppressing a shriek, he tumbles backward, landing hard. The pain doesn’t compare to the immense fear that swallows him.

The figure lets out a sinister laugh and lounges itself towards him. Piercing hands wrap around his neck in an instant. He feels a tinge of sharp nails squeeze at his neck so painfully; enough to draw blood. 

His vision fills with white as he struggles for air.

"Pl...please." Youngjae breathes out. 

His jaw slackens, but his fight or flight responses kick in. He’s not about to die to the hands of a stranger.

Youngjae clutches onto the person's wrists, digging blunt nails into the flesh. B

Raising his knee forcefully, Youngjae is able to kick the person right in the stomach. The other releases their grasp on his neck and curses. 

Youngjae takes the opportunity to shove the stranger off of himself and stumbles trying to stand up. 

He sprints, never once looking back for fear that the attacker might be right at his feet. Youngjae runs and runs until he reaches the porch of the apartment. Turning around, Youngjae heaves a sigh of relief when no one is behind him. His beating heart is a drum and his head was pounding to the rhythm. 

Youngjae’s hands rattle as he reaches inside his bag for the keys. As he pulls them out, they dangle recklessly in his hold. The clink of the keys dropping to the cement make Youngjae spin around. 

No one.

He looks left and right, but no movement surround him. 

Slowly picking himself up, he steps inside the apartment safely. Throwing his bag down, Youngjae turns the lights on. His body carries him down until he’s sitting with his back on the door. 

The soles of his feet ache, and he pulls out his phone. Thanking every deity that it not fall while he was running.

Unlocking his phone, Youngjae notices that he has one unread text from Mark.

'Are you home?' 1:13 a.m.  
-  
Mark knows better than to take drinks from strangers. But Yugyeom isn’t a stranger, so he downs three more drinks. The chill of the alcohol pumps through his veins. His body moving in tune with the rhythm.

He feels Yugyeom's hands all over him. Heat pools at his core as the dancing bodies move around him.

Mark had lost BamBam a while ago, not knowing where he had disappeared off to. Maybe that's why Yugyeom suddenly became all touchy, there was no one to stop him.

When Mark escapes Yugyeom's lingering hands, he makes his way towards the bathrooms. Mark has no idea what kind of power Yugyeom holds that makes him want to be withering underneath him. That thought alone sends a shiver down his spine. 

He remembers texting Youngjae a while ago saying if he was home. When he pulls out his phone to see if he had since replied, his heart sinks.

Mark looks at the time, it’s too late for Youngjae not to return his message. The screen displaying a “delivered.” Dread fills him, knowing Youngjae should be out by now. 

Dashing out of the bathroom, Mark snakes his way through the intoxicated bodies once again, trying to avoid any lingering touches from a certain someone. 

As he is about to step outside, a tall figure obscures his path. 

"Leaving so soon?" BamBam pouts.

"I thought you left."

"You think I'd leave you with Yugy, knowing damn well he only wants to get inside your pants?"

The corner of Mark's lip raises up as he rubs the back of his head.

“I needed to make a quick phone call,” BamBam explains.

Mark feels a buzz in his back pocket. He pulls out his phone, reading the message: 

'Yeah, just got back~^^'1:38 a.m.

His nerves die down knowing that Youngjae made it home safely. 

BamBam must have noticed the shift in his expression because he asks him if everything was fine. Mark nods.

"Come on then, let's have some fun." He holds Mark's hand as they both enter the dancefloor.  
-  
Laying down in the darkness of his room, Youngjae keeps tossing and turning. The blankets that stuck to him feel itchy and he wants nothing more than to feel at ease.

Everything happened too fast. It all began the day at the restaurant. Youngjae doesn’t know if it had something to do with what happened that night.

His mind flashes to the image of the person who attacked him. He remembers glimpsing at a tattoo right as their hand reached for his neck.

Could that have been one of the people Jaebeom is looking for?

Looking back at his phone screen, it shows Mark read his message.

Sighing, he shifts in his bed. 

Youngjae only hopes that Mark would be safe.


	2. It Will All Be Over Soon...Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes knowing too much can suffocate you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo, I wanted to put this chapter up before the end of the year :> I'll try my best to upload chapters frequently instead of waiting months oop. Anyway, this chapter is just the beginning nyehehe

Studying never comes easy. Although life seems to be spiraling into chaos with no turn of direction, Youngjae can not focus on those matters right now. He convinced Mark to step out of the comfort of their own home and into the rich smelling aroma of a coffee shop.

Days like this assure Youngjae that things would resolve themselves. It brings him peace by having Mark at his side.

With books and lined paper (filled with written notes), Youngjae and Mark studied for their midterms. Youngjae tried to concentrate on whether he made a mistake taking sociology. He tries to ignore Mark, who is ruffling the pages of his textbook.

Not once in the last fifteen minutes has Mark tried to pay attention. Instead, he’s doodled small puppies in the margins of the paper.

Youngjae raises an eyebrow at Mark’s work and shakes his head. He can’t get distracted right now. Not when he has to review the same notes over and over. The information never processing.

“You know, I don’t think there are rainbow dogs on your math test,” Youngjae says as he leans back in his chair, stretching his arms out.

Mark stops doodling and shrugs. “Anything is better than useless graphs.”

As the minute’s tick by, Youngjae is learning the material. And it seems Mark picked up his calculator to solve some equations.

_Tick tick_

Mark taps his pencil, each hit sounding like a song. He sighs dramatically until Youngjae’s pencil snaps.

“Mark.” Youngjae looks up at his friend sitting across from him. “Will you please just study?”

Mark protrudes his bottom lip, giving him puppy eyes. Almost like the ones he’s been doodling.

“Can’t. This is beyond boring.” Mark rests his head on the palm of his hand. Pencil tapping with the other.

Youngjae rubs his temples, only sighing in return. Mark would only take Youngjae down with him if he didn’t put a stop to this.

“Look, I’ll tell you what, if you study for the next hour,” Youngjae suggests. Mark immediately opens his mouth to protest but Youngjae raises his hand. “Then I’ll treat you to ice-cream.”

Mark raises the corner of his mouth in thought. Grabbing his calculator, he responds. “Fine, you won this time, but only because you know I love cookies and cream.” His eyes shifting over to Youngjae, mouth twitching up to a smile.

He’s got him. Youngjae mentally praises himself, picking up his pencil to continue.

Mark keeps his promise and by the time they finish, they grab all their supplies and head out.

The breeze of mid-spring is pleasant. As both of them stroll down the park with ice cream in hand, Youngjae’s heart and mind are at ease. The truth of the matter is, they both needed this. Too much work could tire someone out and too much stress makes a person weak.

Youngjae enjoys this, being with his best friend. Mark would not stop reminding him that the only true way to study, is to reward himself afterward.

They decide to sit by a nearby bench to fully enjoy the view of the park. A calming lake stretches out in front of them. The glimmering sun dancing on top, making the water look like crystal. The emerald trees hug the lake like how spring is supposed to feel. Nice and warm.

A cool breeze prickles Youngjae’s skin. He pulls up the collar of his hoodie, flinching when his fingers brush his neck. An image of long fingers curling around his neck flashes in his mind. He remembers how tightly they pressed into his skin and how Youngjae saw stars.

It’s taunting.

The question now gnaws at him and it becomes almost painful if he doesn’t let it off his chest.

Youngjae’s been rehearsing this all morning. He’s been planning to tell Mark, without being too obvious.

“Do you...do you know anything about Wang Watches?” Youngjae carefully says, building a conversation. He scoops up his ice cream, but his appetite dissipates.

Mark answers with a small chuckle. “Yeah, I know that they’re expensive as hell.”

Youngjae observes as his ice cream drips down. He didn’t expect Mark to know much about them anyway. His response still crushes him.

Mark glances over at him, but Youngjae doesn’t return his stare. He’s afraid Mark will unveil the mask of worry that covers his face.

“Don’t tell me you were planning on buying something?” Mark takes a bite of his ice cream cone. “Their cheapest stuff probably costs more than my college tuition.”

Youngaje stares at the perfectly straight line on the concrete ground. “No, I was just wondering.” His voice trails off at the last word and Mark looks over at him again.

This time, he returns Mark’s gaze.

If the eyes are the window to the soul, then Youngjae begs every deity to spare his worry. He stares at Mark’s brown eyes with a plead. But Mark only looks at his for a second, until they are trailing down—to his neck.

“What happened there?” Mark says.

Youngjae immediately moves his body away from Mark’s, carefully placing a hand on the side of his neck.

He tries to think of anything that won’t sound too obscene.

“You could say, I’m into some kinky stuff.” Youngjae lightly rubs his neck, looking at Mark.

Mark nudges his shoulder, shaking his head. “Youngjae, you don’t even have someone to do those things with.”

“It was just one time, okay?” Youngjae takes a lick of his ice cream a bit too forcefully because a chunk of it falls over on his lap. He reaches for a napkin and cleans it up. Youngjae thought the subtle make up he purchased last minute would be enough to cover the bruising, but of course, nothing slides pass, Mark.

“Well tell your one night stand to be more gentle next time.” His tone bites at him in a warning. Youngjae stares down at the cement ground.

The words, ‘I was attacked’ choke him. They are strangled in his throat, scratching to escape. But the only ones who managed to leave are, “Mark, I know you would never hurt me.”

A smile ghosts over Mark’s lips, following a fit of laughter. “Not me you dummy.” Mark hangs his arm over Youngjae’s shoulder almost dropping his ice cream in the process. The heavy mood lifts up and Youngjae can’t contain his giggling.

“How does take out for dinner sound?” Youngjae offers.

“Only if it’s from that famous noodle shop I love.” Mark rubs Youngjae’s shoulder. The motion too relaxing that he rests his head on the crook of Mark’s shoulder.  
-  
The evening is a fine one. All golden rays and wispy breezes. After his study date with Mark, Youngjae told him he needed to run some errands.

Mark didn’t question him and said he needed to take care of some stuff himself.

It’s gotten late now. With the city’s spiraling streets, Youngjae finds that he has wandered off farther away than he expected. The streets looking foreign. He pulls out his phone, setting up the GPS.

Entering the location of the ramyun shop, he heads towards the direction.  
The GPS showing the shop is only a few blocks from where he is. It’ll take him fifteen minutes tops.

The air surrounding him smells of lavender and sweet bread. It loops around him, stopping him in his tracks. Youngjae tilts his head to the side, noticing a bakery nearby.  
His pacing slows down, brain struggling on whether he should stop by or not.

Hell, I deserve this.

When he strolls out of the bakery, Youngjae doesn’t expect the sky to turn a soft lilac. The golden streaks of the sun are nothing but a mere line on the horizon.

Youngjae, now holding a small bag of pastries, pulls out his phone.

“I still have time.” The shop doesn’t close for another hour.

With each passing minute, the city around him fades to a darker blue.

As Youngjae follows along, a new direction pops up. One that will subtract five minutes from the usual route.

He stops walking. Looking at his phone screen and the road around him, he’ll need to cross an alleyway.

As Youngjae takes the shortcut, the creaking of the pipes attached to the walls, startles him. He hears a squeak coming from behind a dumpster and Youngjae’s heart leaps. He tells himself it’s only a rat.

“You are on the fastest route.“

It takes everything in Youngjae not to throw his phone.

“Fucking-“ he let’s out a small laugh, realizing it was only the GPS.

The cars bustling behind him fade away with every step he takes.  
As he exits the alleyway, he notices he’s never been to this part of town.  
The city lights have turned on, their orange beam cascading shadows on the streets. As Youngjae crosses a street, he notices how empty the roads are.

He hears a shout coming from a building in front of him. The voice sounding angry. Youngjae continues to walk in the direction of it but stops when he notices two tall figures standing near a slick black car. He moves closer and hides behind a wall, hoping they didn’t hear him. From behind the wall, he hears one of them speak.

“You sure this is the place, Jinyoung?”

“Yeah, the very one.”

Youngjae’s heart stops at the sound of their voice. Because he recognizes them.

Ruffling through the pocket of his jeans, he mentally curses. He must have left the notecard at home.

He thinks if that’s Jaebeom, then that means-

“Well let’s go see if they truly found him.”

The memory unfolds of—Jinyoung—harshly tugging his arm and inspecting his forearm; desperately searching for something that isn’t there.

Youngjae feels a shiver run down his spine.

As he peaks out from behind the wall, he watches as the two enter the building, something inside of him tugs him to follow. Almost like a faint whisper inside of his head that he can’t get rid of.

Curiosity blossoms inside of Youngjae’s chest; the idea of knowing who exactly they’re looking for itch for him to find out too.

Swallowing, he looks up at the building. It’s a three-story warehouse, with no life coming from inside. It astonishes him why the culprit would be hiding in such a place.

Entering through the weary door, he follows the heavy footsteps ahead of him. Youngjae keeps his distance, careful not to make too much noise. He walks on the tips of his toes.  
It’s too dark inside to see what’s in front of him, his sight sense becoming useless. He’ll have to opt for his hearing.

Youngjae steps on some broken glass, his breath hitching. His movements come to a halt but the footsteps in front of him pay him no notice.

He hears the footsteps heading upstairs.

Youngjae touches the soft part of his neck, it’s still tender. The idea of capturing whoever is behind all this makes him want to stay.

Because he got attacked.

And right now Jaebeom and Jinyoung are the only ones who know what the hell is going on.

Youngjae swallows down his fear as he silently goes up the stairs.

When he reaches the top floor, he notices the figures around him come into focus. The light from the orange street lights showers the building with enough light to be able to see.

Youngjae notices Jaebeom and Jinyoung are standing in the middle of the room. He quickly spots a giant cardboard box and carefully crouches down, crawling towards it. He mentally slaps himself as the bag of pastries shuffles in his grip.

The dust is so strong, Youngjae has to keep himself from sneezing.

It isn’t until Youngjae peeks out that he notices there’s someone sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. A young-looking guy, with purple patches painting his face and blood dripping from his nose.

The tied up man squirms around in his chair, the thick tape snakes around his upper body. His pleas muffled by more tape.

Jinyoung looks at Jaebeom, who nods towards the direction of the man.

He approaches him, pulling the tape away in one swift motion.

The sound of tape peeling away from beaten up skin makes Youngjae cringe.

“Where is Beomsoo?” Jinyoung asks impatiently.

The guy heaves, shaking his head rapidly. “I, I don’t know-“

Jinyoung glances over to Jaebeom, a scowl forming on his face. “Who are you?” he asks.

“I’m, I’m Bong-ki.” His voice cracks.

Jinyoung hums. “And who brought you here?”

“Daeseok.”

Jinyoung circles around Bong-ki. His shoes making a click-clack on the cement floor. He stops behind Bong-ki, lowering his head to whisper something in his ear. “And where is he?”

“I don’t-“

Jinyoung pulls out something from inside his blazer, the object glistening with the motion. “I’ll ask again, where the fuck is he?” He points a gun to Bong-ki’s head.

Youngjae’s eyed widen. He won’t actually...

Bong-ki lets out a muffled cry. “Please...please I don’t know anything. I was just walking when I-“

Jaebeom steps forward. “Hey, be quiet.”

A shadow creeps out behind Jinyoung. As light fixates on the figure, Youngjae catches a glimpse of the man. He’s nicely dressed with a smirk pulling at his lips. Something twisted lingers behind it. “This is what you wanted to do with him?”

Jinyoung spins around, coming face to face with the man.

“If you wanted that you didn’t need to come all the way here. I could have killed him myself.”

Kill. Youngjae tries to process why they would need to kill him.

“You must be Daeseok,” Jinyoung says annoyed. He circles back to where Jaebeom is. “Who else is with you?”

Daeseok’s laugh booms off the walls. “Just two friends.” Two other men appear from behind Jaebeom and Jinyoung. They’re taller and bulkier.

Jaebeom approaches Bong-ki. He pulls out a switchblade from his pocket, cutting up some of the restraints.

Taking Bong-ki’s arm, Jaebeom inspects it.

It’s hard to see from where Youngjae is hiding, but he can make out a pattern on Bong-ki’s arm. A long tattoo twisting up around the skin.

“This isn’t him,” Jaebeom flings Bong-ki’s arm away.

“What do you mean this isn’t him, just look!”

“It isn’t.”

Silence fills the building. But there’s a strange eerie feeling floating in the air.

It’s worrying and Youngjae hopes that the drumming of his heartbeat doesn’t reach anyone’s ears.

He can’t let anyone know he’s here, not when things are escalating too quickly.

“Just give us the money, man! Daeseok says.

“Money,” Jinyoung chokes out, “you bastards haven’t completed the deal.”

In a split second, one of the taller men wraps their meaty arm around Jinyoung’s neck. The action comes too quickly that the gun he’s holding drops to the ground, the sound of metal clinking on the hard floor.

Jaebeom looks back but the man punches him, the action throwing away his balance.

Daeseok walks towards the gun laying on the ground. Jinyoung struggles but he’s being held too tightly.

Picking up the gun, Daeseok laughs cynically to himself. “All Wang wants is the guy dead right?” he looks at the gun adoringly. “Then here!” He points the gun towards Bong-ki’s head and shoots. Crimson splattering from the side of his head.

The sound rattles through each wall, startling everyone.

Youngjae doesn’t realize his hands are trembling until he hears the rattling of the parchment paper in his hands. He’s been biting the inside of his mouth so hard, he can taste the warm copper oozing out

Jinyoung elbows the man right in the ribs. The man loosens his grip, which gives Jinyoung enough time to reach into his blazer, pulling out a pocket knife. He stabs the man in the thigh, who then lets out a guttural scream.

He let’s go of Jinyoung completely and Jinyoung spins around and raises his knee right into the man’s stomach, causing him to fall to his knees.

Jaebeom pushes himself up and in one swift movement pulls out his switchblade. The other man dashes towards Jaebeom, fisting his knuckle in preparation. Jaebeom lurches forward, ducking as the man tries to punch him again.

Youngjae notices that Jaebeom’s movements are too fast, too fluid. Like a dancing flame.

Jaebeom uses the palm of his hand in an upwards motion, hitting the man under his chin. He sends him reeling backward. Jaebeom pulls out a gun and aims for the man’s kneecap.

_Bang._

Daeseok intently observes the fight in front of him. He pulls out his phone and when he speaks into it, Youngjae can’t make out the words. He watches as Daeseok flees from another doorway.

Jinyoung and Jaebeom don’t notice until the two men are down and the noises settle down.

Jinyoung has his foot at the side of one of the men’s faces. He presses down, the sound of helplessness tugging a smile at his lips.

“Tell Beomsoo we’re no longer doing business with him.” Jinyoung’s eyes glow a deep red.

Youngjae drops the bag of pastries.

He doesn’t know if he imagined Jinyoung’s eyes glowing just now. But he doesn’t care right now, he crawls away from the scene and heads towards the stairway. His legs feel like jelly when he goes down the stairs. His hands stuck to the wall for support. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he bolts towards the exit. The adrenaline of fear coursing through his entire body.

The cool air of the night is like a splash of water when you wake up from a nightmare. But this isn’t a nightmare Youngjae can wake up from.

It’s a reality.

He runs. Runs until his legs lock up and he needs to catch his breath.

Tonight he followed Jinyoung and Jaebeom into that building for answers. But what he witnessed only gave him more questions.

He’s seen too much already.

Youngjae wonders what would have happened if he was the one in Bong-ki’s place.

Someone who was falsely accused died. And it’s all because of some fucking symbol on the arm.

When Youngjae arrives home, he doesn’t realize he shuts the door too harshly. Darkness surrounds him, the only light coming from Mark’s room.

“I was wondering when you’ll be getting home.” He hears Mark call from the other room. “I hope you got me the eggrolls.”

Youngjae turns on the living room light.

Mark strolls out of his room, already dressed up for bed.

He came empty-handed. Youngjae quickly shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. Trying to calm them.

When Youngjae doesn’t respond, Mark speaks again. “Hey, are you alright?” He inches closer.

“Yeah, I went for a run and I forgot all about dinner,” Youngjae laughs. Although it comes out too shaky and forced.

Mark shakes his head. He plops down on the couch. “You’ve been acting strange since we came out of the coffee shop.”

Youngjae plops himself on the opposite couch. He plays with the strings of his hoodie.

He knows this will pass. Just like all his troubles do.

Just like how he failed a math test in high school and he thought that it was the end of the world. Even though back then it troubled his sleep, he still managed to get over it. It passed.

This will too.

“I’m just scared for finals.” He looks up and Mark is staring at him.

“Is that really it?” Mark doesn’t break eye contact.

It’s quiet. The hum of the refrigerator filling the silence.

Youngjae watches as Mark moves towards the living room table. He picks up a tiny notecard and shows it to him.

His heart stops when he sees that it’s the business card Jaebeom handed him the night he closed up.

“Or does it have something to do with this?”

The little piece of paper stares back at him.

“Where’d you get that?” Youngjae swallows.

“Does it matter?” Mark reads the card over. “Didn’t you ask me something about Wang Watches earlier today?”

Youngjae balls his hands into fists.  
“Where did you get that?” He asks again.

Mark turns to him. “I was doing laundry when this showed up.” A pause. “Youngjae what are you hiding?”

Youngjae’s mouth is a hard line.

They both sit at the dinner table. Mark’s eyes are expectant. He doesn’t push him to start.

Youngjae feels like a dam. The water threatening to destroy the barricade it’s contained in.

Youngjae remembers how Mark always confided in him when something was troubling him. Ever since they became friends in middle school. So why can’t Youngjae do that now?

The seal to the dam remains unbroken.

“I guess I’m still shaken up about what happened at the restaurant…” Youngjae sighs. “It surprised me because I was mistaken for someone with some type of tattoo on their wrist."

Mark considers him for a moment. “A tattoo on their wrist huh?” Youngjae notices Mark roll his lip between his teeth. He only does that when he’s either nervous or deep in thought.

Youngjae follows Mark’s eyes as they trail down his neck. “Does this have anything to do with what’s on your neck?”

A flashback to glowing red eyes.

Youngjae picks at the cuticle of his thumb.

Silence.

Mark runs a hand through his hair. He sighs heavily. “We need to contact the police.”

“No!” Youngjae stares hard at the table. “I mean we can’t.”

“Why the fuck, not Youngjae?” his voice is stern. It slices Youngjae like a paper cut.

“Because nothing bad has happened to me since.” His voice goes softer.

Mark’s expression is hard but when he glances back at Youngjae it softens. “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

Because Youngjae didn’t want him to worry. He didn’t want to believe it himself. That all of this would be a thing of the past.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” A shrug of the shoulders.

Reaching out, Mark squeezes Youngjae’s hand. The gesture is reassuring. “I know you’re not telling me everything, but if something is going on inside Wang Watches…I’ll find out.”

“Wait what, how?”

Mark looks at him. “I know someone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woop I'll have the next chapter up soon! Tell me what you think!<:

**Author's Note:**

> This was just the beginning, hence why the chapter seemed so short. I will try to create longer chapters as the story progresses forward. I hope you enjoyed ~


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